24
by Erin Ellis
Summary: Any summary I think of sounds incredibly dirty. Instead, it's surprisingly for me cursefree Saeki and Ashiwara fluff. Bring a toothbrush.


24  
by erin ellis  
  
  


I look at him, and then look at him again. "Ashiwara-san, you are so full of crap." Can you believe he is actually trying to say he's a Dance Dance Revolution hustler to get out of having to play? 

He shrugs, the movement mostly lost under his heavy jacket. "Maybe. Maybe I'm just hungry and out of change." His stomach growls in agreement, and his grin turns a little more sheepish. "Hey, Saeki-kun, let's eat, okay?" 

Geez, it's like being with a little kid-- all we've done today is eat. Whatever, he's paying, right? "All right, Ashiwara-san, what're you getting me for dinner?" 

He falls into step beside me, walking out of the arcade and into the department store proper. "Dinner does not count as afternoon. Besides, I think you've already cleaned me out for the day..." He sticks out his tongue as I elbow him in the side. He easily sidesteps, reaching into my coat to tickle my sides. I jump back-- I am deathly ticklish though I'll be damned before I'll let anyone find out, closing my coat snug around me for protection, and now for some reason I'm battling a flush from coming up my neck.

Maybe it's time to explain things. 

You know those people who you don't really hate but you aren't really friends with but they're still always _around_? That's Ashiwara. I've known him since I was an insei, and he's pissed me off for almost as long. Recently he hasn't been so bad. For about two months now, we've been playing a series of games, first officially, then continuing off the record until it's become less a series of rematches, and more a regular event. We've had a bet, the winner of three matches in a row gets the other to entertain him for an afternoon. After a long string of close matches (and even a fricking _draw_, how rare is that?) I finally beat him, and here we are, running around the mall at Ashiwara's expense. Touya-group boy gets his; Morishita-sensei would be proud.

Of course, Waya says the whole thing sounds an awful lot like a date. Usually I wouldn't give a crap about what Waya says -- I mean, nice kid, but he thinks a wardrobe mainly consisting of camouflage is cool, come on -- but lately, the things Ashiwara's been doing and saying don't really seem to fit someone who's an acquaintance/rival/sort of uneasy friend-- whatever the hell he is. So that's why I'm noticing just how close he walks beside me and the way he seems to be glancing at me when he thinks I'm not looking. And how he really didn't complain much at all when I let him know (read: taunted incessantly) that he had to entertain me for an afternoon, not half as much as I would have. And how somehow, the little things Ashiwara's always doing don't seem so annoying today. But it's not a date. Definitely not. 

...And what if it were? 

He softly touches my arm and I almost jump. "Saeki-kun, you okay?" His voice is a mixture of playfulness and concern. "Kinda spaced out there. Something wrong?" 

"Nothing," I reply automatically, not missing the faintest of shadows that washes over his face. I smile reassuringly. "Eating, right?" 

"No," Ashiwara shakes his head, mahogany curls falling softly around his face. "Better. Come on, I've got something to show you." He grabs me tightly by the wrist and pulls me over to the escalator. After only token resistance, I follow him up four flights and though there really aren't any crowds, he doesn't release my wrist, and I don't pull away. We end up at the roof level, which is an outdoor observatory that isn't very popular in the middle of winter, especially when there's light snow on the ground. Like today. 

Needless to say, I balk as he moves for the door to the outside. "I thought you were supposed to be entertaining me, not turning me into an icicle." 

Ashiwara frowns and gives me this look much like a wounded puppy. "You've got to see this, I promise you you'll like it." He waits a beat before grabbing my hand and yanking me onto the roof anyway. 

Outside it's like being smacked in the face; it's clear, but bitingly cold and windy, and the side of the building steals even the low, late afternoon sun from us. "Come on," Ashiwara grins, seemingly unfazed by the weather. He pulls me along the roof -- man, my poor shoes; they haven't even shoveled -- and then there's a little corner between where the wall of the roof level ends and the balcony of the observatory itself, and finally, we can see the sun, and Ashiwara says to stop and watch. So I do. 

And soon, the sun starts making its way downward, and the sky begins to paint itself in pinks and oranges and purples and blues, the clouds reflecting tinges of gold, the first stars winking their way into existence. I realize that this is the first time in a long, long time that I've just watched the sun set, much less from a place where it can be really appreciated. From where we are, we can see everything; the building is tall enough that the ever-present highrises of Tokyo don't get in the way of the colorwash across the sky until the sun is almost gone, sinking behind the hazy buildings in the distance and taking its halo of colors with it, leaving a night sky that seems especially clear, midnight speckled with white. We don't speak, just standing and watching until the lights of Tokyo are spread beneath us, garish compared to the spectacle we've just seen, but oddly beautiful in their own way. And I realize Ashiwara has wormed his hand into mine, and I'm gripping it firmly. It's warm. 

It's cold out, especially now that the sun has set. My toes have decided to let me know they are numb, and I stamp my feet to try and get blood flowing again. 

"Still want to play DDR?" Ashiwara quips, expression showing his mood isn't as flippant as his comment. "You can go, you know. The afternoon's over. You're free." His voice is muted, as if speaking too loudly will break some sort of spell we're in. Maybe it will. 

"I-- we should go. It's cold," I say softly, making no move towards going inside. 

"Very true," he replies, moving closer to me. His shoulder is pressing against my arm now, almost warm, almost close enough. At length he looks up at me, and it's stunning the amount of emotion in his eyes, dark and shiny in the dull light. "Just now. Today. Did you... was it okay?" 

I blink a few times at the question, the situation, everything, then smile at him, a true smile. "It was--" 

And he's kissing me, soft and insistent. Surprise turns to the realization that I want this, and my eyes drift closed until everything is just this, the contact of lips and hands, a heated contrast to the sharp cold around us. 

Then he wrenches himself away, a mumbled sorry and the red tips of his ears the only thing visible as he abruptly turns and walks back towards the inside. 

No. "What are you doing?" I ask baldly, grabbing his arm. 

Ashiwara stops, but doesn't turn towards me. When he looks back up, his face is an innocuous mask. "Eating, right?" he echoes my former words. "Come on, Saeki-kun, didn't you want something?" 

"Didn't you?" I pin him with a gaze that shows I mean more than grabbing tempura downstairs. He doesn't move as I take the step needed to close the distance between us and then some, breath increasingly shallow puffs of steam in the cold air. "Before, I... I didn't think I wanted anything." 

"But now?" He does a horrible job of not sounding hopeful. 

I give a crooked smile. "I'm reconsidering." 

His eyes widen, mouth parting slightly in slight disbelief, or wonder, or something, I don't know. I do know that in that moment I think he's beautiful, even with wind-tousled hair and slightly chapped lips, cheeks and nose raw from cold. "Saeki." 

It's actually the first time he's ever called my name without that damned diminutive 'kun'. I could get to like it. I lift my hand to his face; it must feel like ice against his rosy cheeks, but he doesn't flinch away. "You never let me answer your question, what I thought of everything." Then I show him. 

Later, as we leave the mall, Ashiwara gives an impish grin. "So then, when I win my three games, what do I get?" 

"Well, you're never going to beat me three times, so it's a moot point." His eyes widen and I meet his indignant look with a charming smile. "But, maybe if you ask nice enough, you won't have to wait that long. Anything can happen, right?" 

  
  


+ + + 

+ For some reason, whenever I write fluff I feel dirty...  
+ About the timing... I noticed winter sunsets in Japan to be a) really pretty and b) really fast. ...okay, it's really late. That's my excuse for everything.  
+ For Erin (panchan, not me..)... happy birthday!  
+ _24_ is a song by Sakamoto Maaya. Doesn't seem to have any bearing on the story though.  
+ _Hikaru no Go_ and the sexy tho oft-forgotten Saeki and Ashiwara are copyright Shueisha & Studio Pierrot. Created by Hotta Yumi & Obata Takeshi.

  


eme 11.jun.03


End file.
